Page 58 of Rapunzel Is Losing It

“That was an order.”

She shot one last look back at the party inside before she pulled her hand from my face and dipped it between her legs. She rubbed over her panties, but didn’t let out another sound until she tipped her hips back and forth, grinding against me. My cock jerked in my pants but at least she wasn’t grinding over it, or this would have gotten real painful, real fast.

“You can do better than that,” I said, “show me how you get yourself off.”

A determined look furrowed her brows but instead of slipping her fingers into her underwear, like I’d expected, she grabbed the backrest behind me for leverage. She wiggled her hips before she started sliding back and forth, cheeks glowing red as she huffed out hot air. Fuck, even through the satin, I could see how her lips had parted around the curve of my leg. She was grinding her clit against me. And her panties were beginning to bloom darker.

My voice rumbled low from my chest: “You’re making such a mess with that wet pussy, zhizn’ moya.”

“This feels- It feels so- good.” Her words dissolved into a soft moan when I grabbed hold of her hip bones and pulled her harder against me.

She was fucking glowing. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were glossy and her hair swayed, and she looked like a goddamn angel, outlined by the glow from inside.

“Go faster,” I commanded and she followed suit, head dropping back. I sank my mouth against her long tender neck, nibbling and kissing, consuming the sweet taste of her skin. Meanwhile my hands worked to meet her pace, to help her get the leverage she needed.

Her moans grew louder and I stifled them with my lips on hers. Didn’t need an audience for this. No, this angel was all mine.

Cordelia was gasping against my mouth as she fell apart, legs jerking, fingers grasping at my shoulders to keep herself upright. Finally she slumped forward with a hitched little sound that would stay etched into my memory for the rest of my life.

My arms closed around her back and it took me a moment to register the wet warmth sinking through the thick fabric of my jeans. Cordelia was still trembling, catching her breath, but her panties were soaked and a matching large dark spot bloomed on my jeans.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “that happens sometimes, but it’s perfectly normal.”

I couldn’t stop the thundering groan as I puzzled out what she meant. As if my self-restraint wasn’t stretched taut enough. How did I even file away the knowledge that Cordelia was a squirter? That grinding against my leg had made her come hard enough for that? I shifted under her, my jeans suddenly way, way too tight.

“It’s not what you think it is,” she rushed the words out, completely misreading my reaction, and I tightened my arms around her to stop her from getting up.

“I know what it is,” I pressed a kiss to her temple, “and it’s so fucking hot, I’m trying very hard not to bend you over and fuck you right here just to see if I can make you squirt again.”

Her spine stiffened. Shit. Fucking Tequila and my loose tongue. “Victor…”

“Yes?” I loosened my grasp on her and she leaned back, glassy eyes finding mine, skin flushed and glowing. So goddamn perfect.

“I’m still,” she was interrupted by a loud cheer inside and she turned to see Tabitha standing on the table, making it rain Uno cards, “hungry. I’m going to go back inside.”

I had a feeling that wasn’t what she’d meant to say but I had already fucked up enough, so I let her unfurl herself from my lap. She wiggled her dress back down until it hid her soaked panties, but her eyes caught on my jeans.

“Don’t worry,” I said, “go get yourself some more cake. I’ve got a change of clothes downstairs.”

“Alright,” she whispered, shoulders too clenched to mean it.

That’s not how she was supposed to use that word. Our word. She wasn’t supposed to lie to me like that. And she wasn’t supposed to lie like that after how beautifully she’d just come apart in my lap.

I got up and crossed the distance to her, cupping her soft face in both hands and forcing her to look at me. I’d meant it when I’d said that I was going to go along with all of her ideas. She was creative and bright and passionate, and more often than not, she started second-guessing those impulsive ideas once they were in motion. I wasn’t giving her the chance to second-guess the idea ofus.

“More than alright,” I said, “perfect.”

And consequences be damned, I kissed her, because I wanted to - and because she needed to be kissed.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I squintedat the little tea residue at the bottom of my cup and tried to figure out if the random splotches looked more like a donkey or an elephant. According to this website that either meant I was being too stubborn and had to let go - or I’d have to be more patient and just keep holding on.

It could also be an octopus wearing a hat. In which case the octopus would be warning me about my business success. Or something like that.

Groaning, I let the teacup clatter back onto its saucer and closed the website.

Maybe I wouldn’t find my answers in the tea Victor made for me. It was some Russian brand I’d never heard of, enough caffeine in a cup to keep me planted in my seat even when my meds wore off, and no discernible taste other than bitter - soonce I poured a bucket of sugar into it, it was basically sweet water with a kick.

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